Bulletproof Weeks
by Rachel Does It
Summary: Six years ago, Charlene "Charlie" Hunt abruptly left her hometown, her family, and her high school sweetheart to start a new life. After her father passes, she returns home with the secret she carried away all those years ago. How will she adjust to being home again, and how will she make sure her secret doesn't get back to the very person she was running away from? [Rollins/OC]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: This story is titled after a song by Matt Nathanson that inspired me to write this. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **[JANUARY 2006]**

It was a typical winter morning in Davenport. The thermometer was hovering in the single digits. The ground was covered in a few inches of fresh snow and large chunks of ice floated in the Mississippi River, but Charlie didn't mind. She liked the whip of cold air in her face and the smells of winter.

Her favorite part of winter, though, were the mornings like this – in his bed, completely tangled with both him and the blanket.

The mornings when she would wake up in the wee hours, before the rest of the town (and her parents) began to stir, and the first thing she registered was the warmth radiating from behind, wrapping around and embracing her.

She sighed, and leaned back a bit, further into the warmth.

Her movement caused him to start fidgeting, pulling her even closer, and nuzzling her dark hair. He let out a contented sigh of his own and casually draped a leg over hers.

Charlie smiled and let him completely latch onto her. It was nice, comforting, and oh so warm. The snow had come through with a vengeance the night before and his apartment was still feeling a little cool. She snuggled herself deeper into the comforter and him; she wasn't looking forward to leaving the warmth of his bed and rushing home before her parents woke up and realized she was gone.

"Do you have to go?" He voice was soft and raspy with sleep. She was attracted to, and loved, most everything about him; His sleepy voice was no exception.

"Uh-hm." She hummed in return and he tightened his arm around her. "I'll take you to school."He offered.

She turned in his arms and looked at him. His eyes were closed and he was breathing through his nose. Deep, calming breaths. He hadn't shaved and the stubble cast a dark shadow over his cheeks.

"That's all good and fine, babe," She returned his embrace with all the love she felt for him. The feel of his bare skin, his smell, the heat generating from his body made her feel so inexplicably happy. It seemed her whole world was with him; just him, and all she wanted to do was hold him and hear his voice every day. "but what should I tell my parents when they ask why I wasn't in my room this morning?"

"You'll be eighteen in a month, Charlie." He said, brushing her hair out of her face and tenderly tucking it behind her ear. "Tell them the truth."

The absurdity of his thought made her snicker.

 _"_ _Hey, guys, I just want you to know that I sometimes sneak out of the house to have sex and spend the night with my older boyfriend."_ She mocked.

Of course her parents knew they were a couple, and they were fond of her boyfriend. In spite of the age difference (she was still 16 when she'd met the, then 18 yr. old, in her high school's parking lot, one Saturday night, after watching some obscure band play a set in the gym.) the down-to-earth, well-mannered young man won her parents over the first time she brought him home. But, just because they approved of the two teenagers' relationship, Charlie wasn't sure even her usually laid-back parents would be so accepting of their midnight rendezvous.

"Wow. I didn't realize a year and nine months made me old." He smiled and she felt her heart skitter. It always did. Every time. Without fail. She loved to watch his smile transform his face, to see his dark brown eyes light up over something she'd said. She couldn't even pretend to concentrate anytime he flashed that big, goofy grin at her. "But, seriously," He continued. "we've been dating for almost a year now; they have to know that we're doing more than just going to the movies and the mall on date nights."

"I'm their only daughter, sweetheart." Leaning up, she planted a soft kiss under his chin. "I think they _choose_ to remain blissfully ignorant of our healthy sex life."

He ran his hand over the back of her head, tunneling his fingers through her hair. Without thinking, she lowered her head so he could reach her neck, allowing him to press his fingertips into the muscles he found there. "Well, they better get used to the idea of their little girl being grown up, because as soon as you turn 18 and finish school, I'm going to marry you, Charlie."

A soft moan escaped her and she arched her neck against his hand. "Are you sure about that?"

She looked into his eyes, saw his love and earnest resolve. "Do you love me?" He asked.

"Of course, Colby. More than anything - you know that." She nodded, watching him, waiting. When he only stared at her, his eyes darting between hers, she leaned forward and kissed him. Slowly, thoroughly, leaving no doubt in either of their minds.

When she pulled away, he smiled at her, again. "Then I'm sure."

* * *

 **[APRIL 2007]**

 _Colby,_

 _People will leave, sweetheart._

 _My hope for you is that you'll possess the strength and discernment to understand - it's not the end of YOUR story. It's only the end of THEIR part in it. Be fearless in initiating change, Colby, and don't be afraid to close those chapters in your life. Life is made up of so many of them, and they must be closed before new ones can be opened. As such, we've reached the end of my chapter in your life. I wanted a perfect ending, Colby, but I've come to understand - There are things we don't want to happen, but have to accept. Things we don't want to know, but have to learn._

 _People we can't live without, but have to let go._

 _Let me go, Colby._

 _Life is about change, sweetheart. Sometimes it's painful. Sometimes it's beautiful. But, most of the time, it's both._

 _Do not chase me. Rest your legs, your mind, and more importantly - your heart._

 _No one meant for you will ever leave, please remember that._

 _But, before I go, promise me this:_

 _You won't be afraid to get back up again. Live again. Dream again. We can't forget the big one - Don't be afraid to love again, Colby. Promise me that you won't let a hard lesson harden your heart. Promise me that, if you stumble, you won't quit and you'll get back up. There are so many beautiful reasons to be happy, Colby._

 _Promise me that you'll be happy._

 _In return, I promise that I'll never forget you. I'll never forget our laughs. Our smiles. Our conversations. Our plans. Our tears. Our memories. Though I walk away and other people walk into your life, always remember: None of them will ever love you more than me._

 _I know that might not make sense…_

 _Just know, it's okay to leave some relationships unfinished. Not everything will be whole in the Universe. Loose ends happen._

 _...and that's okay._

 _Loves Always,_

 _Charlie_

* * *

 **[AUGUST 2013]**

Charlie woke up to her alarm buzzing at 6:45 AM, and sighed. The thought of rolling over and going back to sleep was tempting, but seeing as she had both herself and her son, Tyler, to get ready for the day, she didn't.

Heading down the hall to Tyler's bedroom, she walked in, opening the curtains and letting in the bright Iowa sunrise. "Up and at 'em, Ty-boy." She announced, pulling the blankets back off her little boy. "You have a big day today and you can't be late."

Tyler sat up in the bed with his dark, tousled hair and sleepy, brown eyes. "I'm still tired, mommy." The little boy stared at his mother like he didn't understand where she got so much energy first thing in the morning. Charlie smiled at her five-year old, seeing so much more of herself every day; She wasn't always a morning person, but raising a kid on her own while working full-time, she quickly learned to become happy with whatever sleep she could get.

"Jackson Tyler Hunt." She pulled out every mother's secret weapon, her child's full name, as she grabbed the outfit she laid out the night before and sat it on the foot of his bed. "If waking up is going to be a continued struggle, you will just have to start going to bed earlier, kid." She preferred to call the boy by his middle name, her own personal nod to the father he would never know, but she knew using his first name was the surest way to let him know she meant business.

Sure enough, the little boy rolled out of bed, and she watched as he began to struggle with pulling his PJ shirt over his head.

"You want some help, Ty-Boy?"

"Nope." His muffled voice came through the fabric over his face.

Charlie's smile dwindled a little. Tyler was becoming more and more self-reliant and independent every day, filling her with just as much heart-break and pride.

"See, mom, I got it." When he finally got the shirt over his head, a big grin lit up his face. _That smile._ Just one of the many traits he shared with his father. It still never failed to melt her heart, every time.

Charlie nodded, pushing back the thoughts of _him._ "Good job, kiddo. Now, you've got 30 minutes." She instructed her son as she walked out of the room. "If I have to come back up here, Jackson, it will not be pretty, kid." She imparted one final warning and set off to get herself together.

Within fifteen minutes, Charlie was showered and dressed. After living in Michigan for almost six years, she'd come home to Davenport a month ago to help her mother after Charlie's father passed away. It was the first time she'd brought Tyler back to her hometown, but it was a big day for the both of them. After she dropped Tyler off to his first day of Kindergarten, it was her first day of school. With her mom around she finally had the help with Tyler, so she figured it was a better time than ever to get her education and focus on providing for her small family's future.

She was pulling her shoulder-length, raven locks back into a ponytail when she realized it was 7:30 – which meant she had fifteen minutes to get Tyler fed and out the door if they were both going to be on time.

"What are you boys so excited about?" Tyler and Charlie's little brother, Scottie, were both jabbering with excitement when Charlie waltzed into the kitchen. She was happy to see that her mother had fixed both boys breakfast already. In lieu of a healthy breakfast and for the sake of time, Charlie reached for the Pop-tarts on top of the fridge for herself.

"Mommy! Uncle Scottie said he would take me to see wrestling next week!"

In a pleasant mood that morning, Charlie was humming a lively tune as she dropped her breakfast pastries in the toaster, but it disappeared from her lips the moment Tyler's words began to sink in.

"Excuse me?" She looked to her teenaged brother for answers.

"WWE, Charles." Scottie answered with a mouthful of cereal. "They'll be over in Des Moines for RAW next Monday and I told the kid I would take him. He said he likes wrestling and I need to get to know my nephew."

"Absolutely not." Charlie answered, refusing to entertain the idea….at all.

"Why not?" Scottie eyed his sister from the kitchen table with a raised brow. "Give me one reason why I can't take the kid for some quality uncle/nephew time."

"I'll give you two, jerk." Charlie retorted. "First, Des Moines is two hours away, and second, it's a school night. I'm not trusting my eighteen-year-old brother to take care of my five-year old for any amount of time. The first pretty face and big butt that walks by, you'll get distracted, and my son will be lost. Plus, I have a hard enough time getting him up in the morning without you keeping him out all night."

"But, mommy, I'll be six this year." Tyler joined in the begging, which almost made her reconsider. Even though she assumed he would be on RAW, it's not like he knew who Tyler was and vice versa.

Charlie nodded. "I know you're a big boy, baby, but that doesn't change my answer." She took a deep breath, knowing she had to remain firm in her decision. It was hard playing both roles – mom & dad. Good cop & bad cop. But, she had to maintain her position; which wasn't easy to do when her little boy looked up at her with those big brown eyes that he didn't get from his hazel-eyed mother.

"If you're worried I can't take care of your kid, come with us." Scottie suggested. "It would do you good to get out of the house, sis. You two never go anywhere, ever."

"Scott, I said no and that is the end of it. I don't appreciate you making big plans and getting my son's hopes up before you run shit by me."

Scottie just rolled his eyes, dropped his bowl in the sink, and walked out of the kitchen without bothering to get a last word in with his big sister.

Charlie leaned against the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her jittering nerves before Tyler picked up on it and started to ask questions. He didn't know anything about his absent father, but she didn't figure he was old enough to start asking _those_ kinds of questions yet. She didn't expect Scottie to know the real reasoning behind her decision. He was only twelve when she left her home, her boyfriend, and her family to go live with her aunt in Michigan.

The only people who ever knew the truth were her aunt and her parents.

"Are you okay, Charlie?" It was the sound of her mother's voice that pulled her back to the present.

"Your son is trying to convince me that I should let him take Jackson to some wrestling event." She looked in her mother's eyes and didn't have to say another word.

The older woman placed a soft hand on her grandson's shoulder. "Tyler, sweetheart, go help your Uncle Scott take the garbage cans down to the curb."

The little boy did as instructed, leaving Charlie and her mother alone in the kitchen.

The next few moments passed in silence before Charlie's mother sat down at the kitchen table, sighing and folding her arms over her bosom. "Charlene, you know he still lives here in town, right? I've seen him at the grocery store a few times and he always asks me about you."

Of course she knew he was still in town; That was why she and Tyler never left the house, as Scottie previously mentioned.

The toaster popped up, signaling the Pop-Tarts were ready. Letting them cool slightly, Charlie bit into one. She chewed, savored, and swallowed. Biting her lip in thought. "You haven't said anything about Tyler to him, have you?"

Her mother shook her head. "It's not my place, but you will have to tell them one day, sweetheart. Tyler is going to need a father and that young man deserves to know he has a son out here."

Deciding her appetite was gone and catching sight of the time on the stove, Charlie trashed her breakfast. "I don't want to talk about this, mom."

"I know you don't, Charlene. You never do – you're stubborn as your damn father was, so I won't waste your time or mine trying to convince you to do otherwise. But," When Charlie attempted to pass by her mother, she grabbed her daughter's arm, effectively stopping her in her tracks. "trust me, Charlie." She looked up at her with soft eyes that held a wisdom and secrets only an older woman could ever know. "The truth has a funny way of coming out, no matter how hard you try to keep it hidden."

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 **[A/N: I enjoyed writing this and I hope you all enjoyed reading it just as much. I welcome any and all feedback, unless you're a douche, then don't bother. Life is too short for negativity.]**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who followed my story, added it to your favorites, or took the time to leave a review. I really appreciate it and hope you guys will continue to do so! I'll try to update as often as possible, but I must balance my writing addiction with an Xbox addiction, a full-time job, and a three year old. Okay, now I'm exhausted from just thinking about all of it. Hehe. Anywho, all the thanks & enjoy!**

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 **[April 2007]**

" _This is what's best for the both of you, Charlene."_ Tears streamed down her face as she pinched the pen in her trembling fingers. Maybe, if she kept repeating those words, she could convince herself they were true. It hurt her to think about how much _he_ would hurt once he read the note filled with things she couldn't say on the phone, but she had to believe things were better off this way.

 _How could she make him believe that when she couldn't even bring herself to?_

The words were a stark contrast to her feelings that morning when she received confirmation from her doctor that she was almost seven weeks pregnant. For the last few weeks, she'd had the inkling suspicion that she could be pregnant due to waking up almost every morning feeling horribly bilious and dizzy. Plus, the obvious sign- her period was nearly two months late. They were almost always careful, but there were times they found themselves too engrossed in the moment, and one another, to be bothered with it.

She kept her suspicions hidden from her boyfriend, she didn't want to stress him about anything until she was sure. He was already stressed enough, balancing his rigorous wrestling schedule with working a regular job to support his wrestling habit and their bills. But, she was beginning to have a hard time concealing her nausea from Colby, who was very concerned that she hadn't been eating enough lately.

So, she made an appointment at the local health department. When they told her what she really already knew, it had set her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. They were nowhere near ready, but she kind of greeted the idea of them having a baby with warm anticipation. Of course things would be hard; She'd just turned nineteen and was already working as many hours as possible as a cashier at the local Aldis to help him make ends meet. A baby would multiply the difficulty of that by a thousand, but she felt buoyant when she left the doctor's office, like she could just float away.

Even working her shift that afternoon, she couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. It was impossible to hold back all the thoughts racing through her mind. She wondered what the gender would be. What would the baby look like? She figured he or she would share their parents' olive complexion, but would they have her hazel eyes or brown, like his? What would she end up craving? How would everyone react, especially Colby?

He was out of town, wrestling some tournament in Ontario that weekend, but she couldn't wait to tell him he was going to be a father.

She brainstormed fun ways to tell him – writing on her stomach, decorating the house, or simply dropping hints like baby themed movies or fixing a dinner with baby-themed foods like baby carrots or baby corn.

Butterflies tickled her stomach, lost in her thoughts of him as a father – playing his Xbox while their son or daughter sat content in the crook of his arm, or the first time he took the little boy or girl to a Bears game at Soldier Field.

It wasn't until he called her that night that she realized her dream of them as a family was delusional.

She somehow managed to stifle her tears as he told her about a booker for one of the bigger independent promotions, Ring Of Honor, contacting him about wrestling for them. The truth hit her, like a strong punch to the gut, as he talked about how he told them he wanted to talk to her before he agreed; How it meant he would be gone more, probably have to quit his job, but it was a major stepping stone to his ultimate goal.

He asked her if she would mind being home alone more often and possibly having to pick up more hours at work to make ends meet. She told him she would do whatever it took to help him achieve his dream – her dream had always been to just be with him. She told him to tell them yes and she would see him when he got home on Sunday.

She knew that was a lie as soon as it left her lips; There was no question as to what she really needed to do.

Once she told him that she was pregnant, he would drop everything – he would give it all up to take care of her and their baby. She wouldn't let him do that over their stupid mistake – not after all of the hard work he had put in and the countless sacrifices he'd made.

 _As much as it broke her heart to think about what she would be leaving behind, she had to let him go._

She placed the point to the paper and the words just spilled across the lines as if they were already trapped inside the pen, and needed to be released. She couldn't give him any explanation as to why she was leaving, so she settled with reassuring him that everything would be okay. She ended the letter by telling him that she would always love him, hoping in her heart that those would be the only words he would focus on. She dropped the pen, and held the letter in her hands, going over the words that he would soon be reading. She lay it down, unaware of the stray tear that had fallen – smearing the black ink.

* * *

 **[AUGUST 2013]**

"Mommy, do I have a daddy?"

The quiet inquiry sent Charlie's heart to her throat.

The little boy's question caught his mother completely off-guard; The plate she was scrubbing slipped out of her hand, breaking into pieces as it hit the enamel sink. She quickly turned away and picked up a kitchen towel to wipe her hands.

She stammered at first, then forced her composure to return. "W-why do you ask, Ty?" A nervous smiled played on her lips.

Tyler was seated at the counter, previously coloring without a care in the world, while his mother cleaned up the dinner dishes. Charlie's mother always went to bed early and Scottie worked nights at the Pepsi bottling company. Charlie didn't mind; After a busy day of meeting her professors and course introductions, as well as enduring her first extended separation from Tyler, she was happy to enjoy an evening alone with her little boy.

At least, she _was_ been enjoying their evening together until she looked back and saw her little boy's eyes scrunched in an expression of combined innocence and sincerity of interest. "Miss Anderson told us to draw our family today and she asked why I didn't draw my daddy."

A flurry of emotions hit the woman – fury, disbelief, acute embarrassment. _What kind of teacher in their day and age would ask such an intrusive and insensitive question?_

Charlie made a mental note to call Tyler's teacher, first thing in the morning, and explain in no uncertain terms that boundaries had been over-stepped. But, her first priority was to comfort her son.

Instinctively, she wanted to protect her child from whatever would hurt him, as any mother would. But, she wasn't sure how to tell a five-year-old that his father was dumb to his existence, and that _she_ had made that decision for all of them. So, she tried to come up with a way to deliver an explanation in a sensitive way, without over-sharing.

"Everyone has a daddy, sweetheart, including you." She admitted, albeit reluctantly, to the child. "But, every family is different, and sometimes a family doesn't include the daddy. Some families have two mommies or daddies, and some families have one daddy. Then, you have families like ours that just have one mommy."

The small boy nodded, and seemed to understand, before asking his mother, "My daddy doesn't want to be in our family?" A sadness brushed over Tyler's features that made Charlie sick with guilt.

It would be so easy for her to lie and place all the blame on Colby – to tell Tyler that his father wasn't ready for the responsibility of being a parent and left her to raise Tyler alone, but they were better off without him.

But, she knew that wasn't fair to her son, or his father, especially.

"That isn't what I said, Jackson, and it's not the case." She explained, softly. "Your daddy is a good man, but for circumstances outside of his control, he can't be with us." Charlie reach across the counter and took her child's hand in hers. "You don't need to worry about that, though." She tried to flash her brightest, most reassuring smile. "Because you have a mommy that loves you enough for a million daddies."

* * *

Charlie sat on her bed, trying to focus on the paperwork Tyler's teacher had sent home in his backpack, but her ability to focus was crowded by thoughts of _him._ For what seemed like the millionth time since she'd retired to her bedroom with the stack of school forms, her eyes went to her cell phone on the night stand.

She shoved her pen into her mouth, chewed the end and frowned as she contemplated picking up that phone.

 _It was entirely possible that he hadn't changed his phone number in the last six years._

Even though she'd made up her mind a long time ago that Colby was better off not knowing about their son, she regretted that decision after witnessing the sadness in Tyler's eyes that night.

Since the day she brought her beautiful 8 pound 6oz baby boy into the world, she'd been acutely aware of the deep wounds his father's absence would eventually have on the emotional well-being of her son, but the naive part of her always hoped this day would never come.

She put the folder of paperwork, and her pen to the side, before taking a deep breath and letting out a long and resigned sigh. "Maybe mom is right." She muttered.

It wasn't the first time she considered calling him and telling him the truth.

Labor was hard enough, but bringing a baby into the world without any support system wasn't something Charlie wished to EVER do again. It was probably the most bittersweet day of her life; On one hand, she cried tears of joy to finally have her baby boy in her arms. On the other, she was swallowed by the sadness of losing her youth and crippled by the guilt. A man gets to witness his first son's birth only once….and she'd stolen that from him.

Alone, broke, and dealing with a newborn who seemed to never sleep, Charlie spent many a night sobbing right along with her screaming infant. Deep down, she knew if she called him, he would be right there by her side to help, but she could never bring herself to pick up the phone.

 _What if he was too hurt, too angry, to forgive her? What if he didn't want Tyler?_

The same fear in her heart still made her reluctant to pick up the phone, almost six years later. Except now, she was afraid he would question her motives. She couldn't bear the thought of him thinking she was only bringing their son forth because he'd made it to the big time, finally, and she wanted her cut.

But, as a mother, her foolish pride and stupid feelings were superseded by her son and his needs….and he needed his father.

So, with trembling fingers, she dialed the number she still knew by heart and, holding herself together by a thread, waited to see if he would pick up.

The phone seemed to ring forever, almost giving her enough to chicken out and disconnect the call. But, after what seemed like the hundredth ring, a drowsy voice sounded over the phone. "Hello?"

Her heart seemed to stop at the sound of his voice, but then it went into a gallop. Pressing her phone against her ear, and her hand against her mouth, she closed her eyes and pictured his face.

It wasn't like she _hadn't_ heard his voice in six years – she had. On more than one occasion, she'd tuned into an episode of RAW after putting Tyler to bed, just to see _his_ face and hear his voice. But, it was different to hear it on the other end of the phone, again.

"Hello? Who is this?" She knew him well enough to recognize the slightest hint of irritation in his voice.

Tears filled her eyes and dripped down her face, but she knew if she let him hang up, she would probably never find the courage to call again.

Charlie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her brain was too busy processing the fact that he actually answered the phone to form a coherent sentence.

"Helloooooo?" This time there was nothing hidden about the aggravation behind his voice.

"H-h-hello.." She stammered, almost in a whisper. "Colby, it's me. It's Charlie."

* * *

Oooooh.


	3. Chapter 3

**[April 2007]**

The first time he saw her, she was standing beneath the street lamp, waiting for her ride. Despite her dark ensemble - a long, navy peacoat paired with black leggings, that accentuated her long, toned legs, and black combat boots- she called out to him like a lighthouse beacon to a ship in the dark of the night. Beneath her grey toboggan, her straight black hair cascaded down her shoulders and shimmered beneath the bright light of the streetlamp, reminding him of ebony silk. When she caught him staring at her, the dark-haired beauty responded with a sparkle in her toffee-colored eyes and red-lipped smile.

To him, the idea of "love at first sight" was a ridiculous notion - until he laid his eyes on her. Their eyes met across that parking lot, and in a single moment, he knew he was lost. The lot was filled with people leaving the high school after the concert, but the second he looked at her, it was like the world around him ceased to exist.

It was cruel irony that, in the absence of her, his world also stopped revolving.

He read and re-read the letter he found on their bed before his mixed and agonized emotions let him make complete sense of her words.

"She's gone..." He whispered in disbelief, carelessly letting his duffle bag slide off his shoulder and hit the floor with a heavy thud.

He shook his head in his confusion and thought, "Why would she leave? Everything was fine when they spoke on the phone two nights ago? Where would she go? What was he supposed to do now?" Those thoughts were followed by the stunning realization that he was now alone.

Colby looked around their small apartment searching for anything, a hint of her presence, something that would prove to him that she would come back. He half-expected it to just be one of her sick practical jokes, and she would jump out at any moment, cackling. But he found nothing to suggest her pending return. All of her clothes - gone. All of her books & CDs - gone. He searched every room for any trace of her, but the only hint that she'd ever been there were the photos of them on the fridge and the lingering scent of vanilla from her favorite candle.

He sank onto the couch, completely shattered.

He felt like his life was over; like his heart was being ripped out of his chest and there was nothing he could do about it.

The one true love of his life, the woman who meant the world to him, was gone and he didn't even know why.

He pinched his eyes shut, tried to force out the tears that wanted to fall. But they wouldn't come. His sense of loss went well beyond tears.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small ring box that burned a hole in his pocket all weekend. He'd always told her he was going to marry her, but he'd never been able to afford the ring. The entirety of his weekend away was spent itching with anticipation to surprise her when he returned home.

Colby told himself that he should have given her the ring before he left; maybe she wouldn't be gone if he'd shown her how serious he was about her. But, he didn't, because he was running late and he thought he would have another chance. You never think that the last time is the last time. He thought there would be more. You think you have all the time in the world, but you don't. He wanted to spend forever with her, but she'd shown him that there was no such thing as _forever._

He squeezed the black velvet box in his fist as the tears finally infiltrated his eyes, his heartbreak giving way to seething anger.

How could she just walk away? How did someone decide another person just wasn't important to them anymore? He wanted to understand.

How could she leave him without _any_ closure?

* * *

 **[AUGUST 2013]**

 _"Charlie..."_ She heard the surprise in his voice, the shock, and Charlie considered hanging up the phone without saying another word. But, if she did, she figured he would just call back.

So, she took a deep breath and spoke the first words her scrambled brain could offer.

"How've you been?" She asked, then felt stupid for asking such a ridiculous question.

 _"I'm not dreaming, right? This is Charlene Hunt?"_ he said, and his tone was tender, but it changed to contempt as he went on: "The same Charlene Hunt that walked out on me without so much as a goodbye - unless you count a pathetic ass Dear John letter? That Charlie?"

She simply nodded and murmured an agreeable sound. She didn't trust her own voice and didn't want to say something else that was stupid. This wasn't quite the reaction she was expecting, but she thought she deserved it after the way she left him. It didn't matter that she did it for him, she'd still hurt him more than she ever wanted to hurt anyone. And, if he'd suffered the way she had after she left, she was surprised he was even bothering to speak with her.

 _"You don't think that question is just a tad bit late?"_

"Probably," Nervous laughter was Charlie's response to his indignant answer. "But I think the rules say you have to ask at least one rhetorical question in every awkward situation."

Following her lame attempt at lightening the mood, there was dead silence over the line and Charlie began to regret her decision to call him. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but the bitter man on the other end of the phone wasn't the Colby she remembered. She didn't have one memory of time he'd ever been ill disposed towards her. She didn't think telling him she'd hidden the existence of their son for almost six years would make him feel any better.

"This was a big mistake and I'm sorry for bothering you." Her voice broke despite her efforts to sound calm. "Goodbye, Colby."

"Charlie...wait..." Before she could hang up the phone, he spoke up, with a new softness in his tone. "I'm sure you had some reason for calling me out of nowhere in the middle of the night..."

 _"Yeah, our son I never told you about will be six in October and I was hoping you could make it to the party."_ Charlie rolled her eyes at the absurdity of the thought. Why did she ever think she could do this?

She sniffled and wiped the edge of her sleeve over her tear-stained face. "Yeah.." She answered in a small voice. "I just wanted to, uh, let you know that I'm back in town."

"Yeah, I heard about your dad." His voice was somber and quiet. "I'm sorry."

Another awkward silence followed his statement - the last thing Charlie needed on her mind was her father. Unlike her mother, he hadn't been the most supportive of his daughter leaving town to hide her pregnancy from her son's father. Though she kept in touch with her mother, calling her every week and sending her pictures of Tyler, she hadn't spoke to her father at all since leaving. She'd been too angry that he didn't understand, and even after his death, that anger wouldn't let her feel anything.

 _"Who is that?"_ The silence was interrupted by the sound of a woman's voice in the background.

"It's nobody." Charlie heard him answer the voice. "Go back to bed, I'll be there in a sec."

 _Nobody._

She felt her heart sink.

No, she didn't expect him to wallow in sadness forever and she'd found out a long time ago that he'd started dating another girl after she left town.

But, to hear her voice? To find out that's who she was to him now? _Nobody._

It almost broke her heart all over again.

"So, how long will you be in town? His voice came back on the line.

At that point, trying to make small-talk would have been unendurable for Charlie. "For good." She answered, shortly.

Another long silence stretched between them before she heard him sigh. "Well, I guess it was good to finally hear from you." He yawned. "I have a flight in a few hours, so I need to catch what sleep I can, but you take care, Charlie."

"Yeah, you too." She paused, and then quietly hung up the phone without another word.

After disconnecting the call, she rolled over, clutched her pillow, and let out the tears that burned at the back of her throat. She let herself cry, great, racking sobs that came from so deep they shuddered all the way through her. "What were you thinking, Charlene? You should have never called him."

* * *

Hm. I really thought she was going to tell him...guess not. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**[September 2013]**

 **[Monday Night Raw]**

 **[Wells Fargo Arena]**

Biting her lip, she drummed her fingers anxiously on the metal guard rail. Her nerves were erratic, light and fluttering within her stomach; They sent chills winding down her spine.

Standing outside the arena with Tyler, Scottie, and dozens of other fans hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite superstars entering the arena, Charlie could only hope and pray they weren't so lucky.

"Who is your favorite wrestler, Uncle Scottie?" Tyler asked, sitting atop his uncle's shoulders.

The sheer joy and excitement written all over Tyler's wide-eyed face was the only thing that gave her spent nerves the slightest ease.

"I don't have one, bud." Scottie answered. "I don't watch the stuff, so I don't know who any of them are."

Despite her sunglasses, the afternoon sun was high in the sky, and Charlie had to squint. "So, why are you going?" She raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Why did you convince our mother into guilting me into this bullshit, if you don't even watch wrestling?" She could only roll her eyes, hearing her mother's voice in her head again, clear as it was the night before.

 _"Just take him, Charlene. What are you really afraid of - that Colby will find out you've hidden his son for six years, and will hate you for it? Or, are you worried that Jackson will love wrestling just as much as his father, and you couldn't live with that constant reminder of your guilt?"_

In the face of that truth, Charlie couldn't dispute her mother; the idea of both scared the shit out of her.

She told herself that she was there for Tyler - his happiness would always come before her selfish feelings. But, she knew wasn't being quite honest with herself. She was there because, as any stubborn daughter would, she refused to let her mother be right.

Also, as much as she hoped _he_ didn't see _them,_ a small part of her was itching to see him, again. A week had passed since her awkward, and poorly timed, phone call and he was all she could think about. Thinking about him wasn't unusual for Charlie, she often caught her brain drifting off to memories of her ex-boyfriend; Usually whenever Tyler did something that reminded her of Colby, something as small and irrelevant as a smile. For that week, though, he'd consumed her every thought. She couldn't turn it off, so she hoped seeing him would, maybe, get it out of her system.

"I wanted to bond with my nephew and my sister." Scottie answered, matter-of-factly, pulling his older sister from her distracted thoughts. "You used to go to wrestling stuff all the time. Remember? With that guy you would sneak out of the house see, thinking mom & dad didn't notice?"

Charlie immediately turned her attention, and the conversation, to her son. "Who is your favorite wrestler, Ty?" Determined to hide her spent nerves from Tyler, she shifted her weight back and forth on her black Converse tennis shoes.

Tyler thought for a second, clearly considering his choice before answering his mother. "Seth Rollins." He replied, a big grin lighting up his face.

 _Because his mother's stomach wasn't a big enough ball of nerves._

"B-b-but, I thought John Cena was your favorite?" She sputtered.

"No, I like Seth Rollins. Uncle Joe says he's like a ninja." He reiterated. "Who do you like, mommy?"

To say she was caught off-guard by her son's words would have been an understatement. Was the Universe playing some cruel joke on her? She let Tyler watch wrestling, to a limit. She always found a reason for him to stop watching before he caught a glimpse of the father he didn't know. It was always time to go to bed or let mommy watch something else before he came on the screen.

When they were living in Michigan, her aunt & uncle would sometimes watch him while she worked a few hours at night. They were wrestling fans, so she could only assume that was where he'd seen him on the television.

It felt like her brain was running back and forth, unable to get a toe-hold on anything. "Uh, I don't know," She tried to focus her scrambled brain on what her son was asking. "Does CM Punk still wrestle? I used to watch him with your da-" When she realized what she almost said, her mouth opened for a heartbeat, before closing with a snap. "Never mind." She mumbled.

She didn't need to remove her sunglasses to see that Tyler and Scottie were both staring at their mother and sister like she was a mad woman. Hell, with her muddled thoughts and feelings, she thought it was a fair assumption.

"I'll be right back." She broke away from the huddle of people. "I am going to go find a restroom." She needed to get away and find somewhere to compose herself, and quick.

* * *

A little quiet time to compose her thoughts, that's what she needed.

To her pleasure, a small convenient store across the road from the arena was empty enough to offer the solace she sought.

"Get it together, Charlene." The woman chastised herself, perusing the narrow aisles of snack foods and novelty items she had no interest in buying. "So what if he's Tyler's favorite wrestler? He's a great wrestler. Plenty of kids admire him." Losing herself in the soothing mindlessness, she eased along the aisles, but she was still mumbling to herself when she found her way to the beverage coolers.

She opened the glass door, the cool caress of the frosty air causing goosebumps to form on her arms and upper body. She grabbed a Coke for herself and Sprite for Tyler - Scottie could fend for himself for putting her in this situation. "It doesn't mean anything, Charlie."

"Charlie? Is that your imaginary friend?"

Charlie startled at the deep, gravelly voice behind her. "Excuse me?" She spun around with her beverages still in hand, her gaze falling on a handsome, blue-eyed man. Her face flushed, realizing he had been audience to her inane ramblings. "Oh, uh, I'm Charlie and I promise I'm not half as crazy as I sound." Though I _am_ beginning to question that.

The stranger wore a black baseball cap backwards over his brown hair and a sweat-stained grey tank top. That, paired with the dark duffle bag slung over his shoulder led her to assume he was leaving the gym located next to the convenience store. "Hey, you'll get no judgment from me, princess." He held up his hands. "But, if you wouldn't mind pausing your monologue long enough for me to.." His voice trailed off, gesturing to the bottles of water in the cooler behind her.

She felt her face warming again. "I guess I _am_ in your way." She said congenially, disguising her embarrassment, and left him to do his business.

 _"Good going, Charlie. It wasn't enough for you to make your brother and son think you're losing it, you have to go make an ass of yourself in front of cute strangers."_ Lest another stranger find her muttering to herself like a nutter, she kept these thoughts to herself as she waited her turn in line at the register.

She didn't even realize he was standing directly behind her, again, until he leaned down and spoke quietly into her ear. "The name's Dean, by the way." He said, his voice gentle as his breath stirred the wisps of hair behind her ear.

It sent shivers down her spine.

She cast him a quick glance over her shoulder. "Pleased to meet you, Dean." She nodded.

"The pleasure's all mine."

There was moment of silence between the two strangers as the line moved forward. Once the line halted, Dean was in her ear again. "You live around here, Charlie?" The sweet rush of his breath tickled her ear, fanned her cheek and neck.

It took a second for it to sink in that he was flirting with her. When had someone last flirted with her? Before she met Colby, certainly. A kid glued to your hip had a way of deterring men - which she preferred. Tyler was the only man she needed in her life. But, it was nice to know she could still attract a man's attention.

Charlie kept her eyes forward, hiding her soft smile from Dean. "No, I actually live in Davenport." She answered. "It's about two hours from here."

"It's a small world after all!" He exclaimed before continuing, "Me? I'm not from around here, but my buddy lives in your neck of the woods."

That genuinely piqued Charlie's interest - _Where was he from? Why was he hanging out in the convenience stores of lovely Des Moines? Did she know his "buddy"?_

Before she could ask him any of her questions, it was her turn at the register. She decided to just pay for her items and forget about her questions. _She had enough going on, and the last thing she needed to worry about was some man._

She was out the door, with her drinks, and about to cross the street to the arena when she heard her name being called behind her.

"It's a little rude to just walk away in the middle of a conversation, don't you think?"

"It was never my intention to be rude, Dean." She turned around to face him. "I just have somewhere I need to be."

"So do I, but I really thought we were hitting it off back there." He tilted his head, crossing his arms over his broad chest. When he smiled, dimples decorated his cheeks, and Charlie found herself fighting the urge to swoon. _Seriously? She hadn't swooned over a man in years._

"Like I said," He continued. "my buddy lives in Davenport. In fact, we're all going out to this joint he knows, Boozies Bar & Grille - you heard of it?"

"I'm familiar with it."

"Good." That garnered another fantastic dimpled smile. "You got a pen?"

Charlie nodded and retrieved the item from her messenger bag.

"I probably won't be able to grab you until midnight, but if you'd be kind enough to give a fellow a number to reach you, I'll text you for the address when I'm on the way." He offered his hand and she took it, not that she really wanted to go out with him. She wasn't sure where the feeling originated, but something about Dean gave her the suspicion he wasn't someone to take "no" for an answer.

So, without a word or telling expression, she wrote her cell phone number against the lines of his hand. _Even if he did decide to call her, it wasn't like she had to answer._

When she was done, he blew on the ink before shoving his hand in his pocket. "Until tonight, princess..." He winked and strolled away, whistling, leaving Charlie to wonder what the hell had just happened.

She couldn't take her eyes off him as he walked away, even when she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. Only after Dean had strolled completely out of her line of vision did she bother pulling the electronic device out.

"Hello?"

It was Scottie's panicked voice that came over the line. "If you're done going through whatever, you should come back right away. I think I broke your kid."

* * *

Reviiiiieeeeeews.


	5. Chapter 5

This one took me longer than usual. For that I apologize, but here it is. I didn't forget about this story. Neeever.

* * *

 **[September 2013]**

 **[Davenport, IA]**

"So, I _literally_ broke your kid?" In the emergency room lobby, Scottie crouched down in front of his nephew, studying the temporary splint on Tyler's wrist.

She could hear her brother's amusement and it rather annoyed her. "Does it make you proud, Scottie, that my five year old will have to spend six weeks in a stupid cast because you couldn't be bothered to watch him, attentively, for a few minutes?" She huffed, shoving the x-ray copies into her messenger bag. The emergency room nurse had given them to her to take to Tyler's appointment with an orthopedic specialist the next day.

After four hours in the emergency room, the doctor had finally concluded that Tyler's wrist suffered only a hairline fracture. A clean break, to Charlie's relief. He wouldn't need any surgery or any bones put back into place - just six weeks in a cast and his arm would be good as new.

Honestly, she didn't blame Scottie; Tyler had always been a rough & tumble little daredevil. As much as the kid climbed, jumped, & ran, she was surprised they'd made it this far without any broken bones.

There wasn't any question as to who he took after in that regard.

"Uncle Scottie, are you going to sign my cast tomorrow?" Tyler asked, excitedly. He couldn't wait to get his cast and show it off to all the new friends he'd made at school. "Mommy said I can get any color I want."

During the entire ordeal, he'd complained more about missing RAW to go to the hospital than his fractured wrist. Despite her irritation with her little brother, she was also extremely proud of her son for being so brave and resilient.

Charlie couldn't help but smile, beaming with a pride that warmed her and soothed her jangled nerves.

There were certain traits she was glad Tyler inherited from his father.

* * *

"I don't think I should leave Tyler, mom. I'll just call Dean back and tell him not to come" Charlie looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, critically.

She bit her lip, considering a change of attire.

Her outfit – a pair of skinny denim jeans matched with a white bralet and a sleeveless, tie-dye wrap around top that showed off her toned stomach – left her feeling vulnerable and self-conscious.

It accentuated the curves given to her by motherhood, but it didn't feel like an outfit a mother _should_ wear.

As she inserted her sapphire stud earrings, she tried to remember the last time she dressed up for a man. Choosing to dedicate her time to raising her son, she hadn't entertained a man since his father.

Nervous, eager butterflies stormed her stomach, as she thought about spending the night with the enigmatic man she'd only met that afternoon. But, thinking about her son asleep in his room, those butterflies were squashed by the large ball of guilt in the pit of her gut.

"He won't even know you're gone, Charlene." Charlie's mother sat behind her, on the edge of the bathtub. "He is so wore out from his eventful day, he'll probably sleep like a rock all night."

She continued to study her reflection in the mirror. Her long dark hair was parted center and allowed to flow freely around her shoulders and down her back. She completed the look with a swipe of ruby red lipstick and brown & mauve eyeshadow to compliment her natural beauty.

"I just don't think I'm ready for this." Charlie frowned at her reflection.

Her mother stepped up behind her and placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Yes, you are, Charlene." She assured her. Her eyes met Charlie's in the mirror and a soft smile stole her face. It was the kind of smile only a mother could have. The kind that said she understood and saw past all the little lies Charlie was telling herself. "For almost six years, every move – every decision - you've made has been in the best interest of Tyler. I'm proud of the wonderful mother you turned out to be, and you aren't any less for taking one night for yourself."

Her mother gave her shoulders a light, reassuring squeeze. "It'll be good for you to get out of the house and spend some time with a good-looking man, Charlie." She added.

Looking into her mother's tired eyes, Charlie suddenly felt so selfish. Not once since her father's funeral had she stopped to consider her mother. She'd been too consumed by her own issues.

"What about you, mom?" She placed a hand over her mother's. "How are you doing?" Her brow furrowed in deep concern for the older woman.

It wasn't anything new. For as long as Charlie remembered, her mother always hid her heart from her and Scottie. She always tried to be strong; Tried not to let them see how bad she was hurting.

As a mother, Charlie finally understood why. She'd never want her own child to worry about her, either.

She continued to smile but Charlie saw it, the glimmer of pain in her eyes. "I finally have you and Tyler back home, where you belong." She sighed. "I am fine."

Charlie opened her mouth to protest, but she was interrupted by Scottie poking his head in the door. "Charlie, there's some dude at the door?"

Charlie nodded, but deep down she felt the sea of anxiety beginning to churn again. "Well.." She took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

* * *

"You have a kid? No way?" Seated next to Charlie in the red leather booth, Dean looked her up and down, appraisingly.

After three beers, Charlie was feeling the first effects of the alcohol pulsing through her system. "Yup." She nodded. "A little boy, Jackson, but we call him Tyler." The drinks Dean bought her were doing a good job of easing the normally tense woman's nerves. Her tongue was loose, allowing her to divulge more about her son than she usually would to strangers.

"You sure you want riff-raff like my boy here around your kid?" Across from them in the booth, the dark-haired man Dean had introduced in the car as his friend, Roman, teased before lifting his beer to take a drink.

"Hey!" Dean feigned offense, grabbing a peanut from the bowl in the center of the table and flicking it at his friend.

They all stifled giggles when Roman dodged the projectile and it landed in the hair of one of the girls seated behind him. She was none-the-wiser to the object in her hair as she continued to chit-chat with her friends.

To Charlie's surprise, she was genuinely having a good time. She'd shared in drinks with her aunt and uncle in Michigan, but it was her first time in a bar. It was what she expected it to be, though. Dark, smoky, and loud. There were groups of people gathered around the pool tables, made-up girls gaggled at the bar waiting for someone to offer them a drink, and couples on the dance floor.

Her mother was right, a night out was exactly what she needed. As she sat, sipping her drinks, listening to Roman and Dean tease one another, and occasionally answering a question about herself, it was the most at ease she'd felt since returning to Davenport.

Dean gulped the rest of his drink, sat his empty glass aside, and regarded Charlie's own empty cup. "You feeling up to another?" He tilted his head, so that his hair fell slightly over his brow and Charlie was certain she felt weak at the knees.

She nodded and Dean flashed her another of his swoon-worthy dimpled grins before setting off for the bar with their empty glasses.

Now alone with Roman, silence hung thickly in the air. Charlie took that opportunity to check her phone for any missed messages and to send her mother a text asking about Tyler.

After several minutes, he was the first to break the ice. "So, how old is your little boy?" He asked.

Concentrated on the screen of her phone, Charlie barely took notice of the voice speaking to her. "I'm sorry?" She looked up from the device in her hand.

"Tyler?" Roman flashed her a bright white smile that was fabulous in it's own right - warm & engaging. "How old is he?"

"Oh, he's five but he'll be six at the end of October."

He pulled his own phone out of the pocket of his black leather jacket and slid it across the table. "That's JoJo. She'll be five in December."

It took some blinking, but Charlie eventually focused her impaired vision enough to make out a picture of Roman with quite possibly the cutest little girl she'd ever seen in all of her twenty-five years. "Goodness. She is absolutely gorgeous." She gushed.

"She's a sweet kid." He returned with a nod. "If you're interested, while you're holding on to that," He eyed his phone in her hand. "You could leave your number and we could get Tyler and JoJo together sometime."

Her brow furrowed and she regarded him hesitantly. Was he flirting or just being friendly? She'd hate to misinterpret his actions - especially considering the fact that she was there with his best friend. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"If you're worried about how Dean will react, you shouldn't be." Charlie followed his eyes to the subject of their conversation.

Dean was sitting at the bar, surrounded by and entertaining several young women.

Maybe Charlie would have been jealous or bothered if she didn't have Roman's company, but she carelessly shrugged off being ditched by the other man. "He's undeniably handsome, but I'm not certain he's my type, anyway."

"What is your type, Charlie?" Roman inquired, drinking from his bottle but never taking his eyes off her. Under the study of his piercing grey eyes, she wasn't sure if the flush in her cheeks was from the alcohol.

It had been so long since she'd been in a relationship, she wasn't sure what her type was, anymore. When she met Colby, she was drawn to the way he made her laugh and the way he put her at ease. Dean _was_ handsome and he made her laugh, but his energy didn't put her at ease. In fact, it was only after he introduced Roman that she'd begun to feel the least bit comfortable. Besides, she obviously wasn't Dean's type either.

"Look, " Roman leaned across the table. "I am sorry my buddy doesn't know how to show a lady a good time." He chuckled lightly. "How about you let me make it up to you with a dance?"

Charlie gave one more glance in Dean's direction, he was still occupied with he newfound friends. She nodded and took Roman's hand, letting him lead her to the dance floor.

She went into his arms easily. Too easily maybe. She fit there, comfortable. Charlie laid her head against his chest as they began to sway slowly from side to side, their bodies close while _Come Away With Me_ by Norah Jones played over the bar's sound system. Maybe it was the alcohol affecting her head, but she liked Roman. She closed her eyes, She could smell his cologne and it smelled really good, kind of earthy and masculine. She felt good in his arms, just relaxed enough to be guided by the subtle pressure of his hand on her lower back.

To Charlie's chagrin, the song was much shorter than she remembered. "I guess this is the end." She whispered, quietly, as a more upbeat tune began to play.

"It doesn't have to be." Roman answered. "We could get out of here. Go find someplace quiet to grab a bite and continue our conversation."

Charlie didn't get the opportunity to take him up on his suggestion. Right behind her, at that very moment, a very familiar voice interrupted their moment.

"Roman, there you are, but where the hell is Ambrose? Don't tell me he got wasted and slipped out with some barfly before I even showed up?"

* * *

Damn cliffhangers.


	6. Chapter 6

So, this one is short, sorry. But, I think you guys will like it. At least, I hope. I wrote this one a little differently...and it's probably not what was expected...but...eh.

* * *

 **[September 2013]**

 **[Davenport, IA]**

Charlie knew she was hungover before she even opened her eyes, but opening her eyes confirmed the state. Even the weak dawn light filtering past the window blinds made her groan in pain. She'd had a hangover only once before, but there was no mistaking the symptoms. Fuzzy tongues, pounding headache, queasy stomach.

"God, I'm an idiot." She moaned. She couldn't remember how many beers she had, but she knew there'd been at least two upon arriving at the bar, and two was really her limit. She remembered laughing with Dean and she remembered dancing with Roman, and then...Then she'd obviously stumbled home and fallen into bed without even taking off her jeans.

Keeping her eyes closed, she sat slowly up and swung her feet over the bed. The room spun a little, but her stomach didn't protest much, thankfully. She felt bone dry – a glass of ice cold apple juice and a handful of ibuprofen sounded like something she'd pay a million dollars for.

Promising herself a reward of returning to be in a few minutes, she pushed to her feet and opened her eyes.

"Oh, holy mother of God." She wheezed, partly from the pain of the bright light burning her retinas, but mostly from her strange surroundings. She momentarily stiffened upon realizing she wasn't in her room. She was in a bedroom that she didn't recognize with pale green walls and hardwood floors.

Because her head wasn't spinning enough, Charlie quickly spun around and was immediately relieved to see that only one side of the bed was disheveled. Her bag was the only thing resting atop the neatly made blankets on the opposite side of the bed.

"Oh, Charlene Grace, what have you done?" She sat back down and tried to force her aching head to register the rest of her evening. "Where the hell am I?"

As if on cue, a hauntingly familiar voice spoke from behind her. "When did you become such a lush, Charlie?"

She whirled around and her heart stopped in her chest, or so it felt like. "C-C-Colby?" Because she wasn't completely and utterly confused enough.

In the doorway, he leaned against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. "Judging from that dumb-founded look on your face, I am willing to bet that you don't remember any part of last night?" He wore a faint smile, but his brown eyes weren't gentle or kind, like she remembered them. They were cold. Stern. Unreachable.

She couldn't even look at them, instead dropping her gaze to his shoulder. "I would say that's a fair assessment." Her voice came out as small as his gaze made her feel.

Silently, he studied her for a few tense moments before he dropped his arms and removed his weight from the door frame. "Well.." He sighed. "Come down to kitchen. I made you some breakfast and I'd be happy to fill in the blanks for you...right after you answer a few questions."

* * *

 **[The night before...]**

 _"I'm going to put her to bed and then you're going to explain to me how my two best friends found themselves getting my ex-girlfriend wasted at the bar." Colby whispered, almost hissed, at Roman._

 _"Man, how many times do I have to tell you?" Roman finished locking up the door behind them. "We had no idea, dude. Dean just met her at some convenience store and invited her out." The Samoan shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say...I'm sorry."_

 _To be frank, even he had no idea how the night ended up like this._

 _All he knew was that all of his current problems were at the fault of Dean & Roman, both were responsible for letting her drink her heart out before he ever arrived._

 _Standing in the middle of his living room, irritation and exhaustion flowed through him. He just knew Dean was off with that group of girls somewhere, probably still drinking merrily and laughing at the awkward situation he'd left his best friend to deal with._

 _He cursed inside his head, conscious of the weight he was carrying. She looked light, but completely passed out, she was nothing but dead weight. Her ebon tresses had descended on his shoulder blades, and he was very aware that her face was near his._

 _He ignored the smell of booze that ruined her elegant and natural scent. He also ignored the lingering feelings that threatened to control his actions._

 _"Are you sure you don't want me to take her?" Roman stepped forward, arms open._

 _"I've already told you no." Fixing Charlie's slim body so it wouldn't slip away from his, he took a step back from Roman. He didn't want Dean or Roman's hands on her again. Not that he was jealous, no, he just felt overly protective of her. He was only doing this because it was the right thing to do._

 _Was he just supposed to let her stumble all the way out of the bar by herself, even if she was set upon doing just that?_

 _He had at least one thing to be thankful for as he carried Charlie up the steps - Leighla was out of town with her friends for the night. He wasn't sure how he would've explained the scene otherwise._

 _After getting Charlie settled in the bed in the guest room, he sat down on the edge of the bed. Rubbing his fingers against his forehead, he watched her sleep. Her long black hair fanned out around her head like a dark halo, and he counted the light brown freckles on her nose. She sighed once and smiled, but slept on._

 _Smiling slightly, Colby pulled the comforter up over her shoulder._

 _It took him back to those nights when he would come home late from work or wrestling in some other state, and he would watch her sleep. He used to love watching her sleep. He probably would have continued doing it night after night...if she'd never left._

 _"He has your smile." Charlie slurred before rolling over and snuggling down into the blankets. "I can see it when you look at me like that." Another sigh._

 _"Who has my smile, Charlie?"_

 _"Jackson."_

 _He regarded her with a lifted brow. "Who?" He didn't figure she had a boyfriend, not if she was hanging out with Dean & Roman in the middle of a bar._

 _The inebriated woman yawned and responded. "Duh. Your son, silly."_

* * *

Revvviiiieeeews.


	7. STATUS UPDATE

**Author's Note:**

Hello! I hope all is well with anyone who may be reading this! Firstly, I want to apologize for the not-so-brief hiatus on this story. I had a lot going on (moving to a different state, switching jobs, got engaged, got un-engaged LOL). Hopefully, you guys can understand why I didn't have the time/energy to work on this. BUT GOOD NEWS! I've written most of Chapter 7 & I intend to post it tomorrow night - I just want to basically do a pulse check, I guess? I mean, I love writing this story but I don't want to dedicate the time/effort to writing and posting if nobody wants to read it any longer (WHICH I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND). So, if enough people can PM ME or leave a review just letting me know they still want to read it - I'll continue to finish this story now that my life has settled. Much love. Thanks.


	8. Chapter 7

**Can I just say - WOW! I was honestly surprised and so humbled by how many of you were actually still waiting for me to finish this story. I was only expecting 3-4 people to respond I honestly would have been satisfied with that. Honestly, it means so much to me. Thank you!Now, I planned for Chapter 7 to be longer, but I promised you guys I would post it tonight. I didn't want to rush the second half of this chapter, so I decided to just cut it in half. That means this one is going to be short, but I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer. Also, I'll probably have the next part posted tomorrow or the day after. I hope you guys enjoy it - I am a bit iffy on it because I am still trying to shake off the rust, so to say.**

 **Soooo...here you go! Hope you like it!**

* * *

[September 2013]

[Davenport, IA]

Colby didn't know what to say, or rather, there was so much he wanted to say that he was having trouble deciding what to say first. A million questions seemed to race across his mind, each bringing with it a new line of queries.

He had a son. A boy. Now five years old.

He struggled to breathe, struggled to think, to believe, to understand...

"Colby, I am so sorry." Charlie sat across the kitchen table from him, wringing her hands, her face a blurred wash of tears.

His mind flashed back to their past, the two halcyon years they'd spent almost inseparable. Even that second year, spent struggling to make ends meet in their little apartment - his time with Charlie was the most blissful time of his life. Six years had almost passed since then and in many ways, it had felt like a lifetime. Now, for Colby, it felt like a lifetime in exile.

"Does he know about me, Charlie?" He randomly selected a question from his ever-growing list.

Her head lowered in shame and her silence was all the answer he needed.

A terrible ache bloomed in his throat, swiftly followed by a tumult of emotions – alienation and loneliness, frustration, and anger. Hanging onto his composure by a thread, Colby scrubbed a hand over his face. He tried to picture his son, this boy he'd never seen. His own flesh and blood – and he had no idea what he looked like.

His thoughts flew haphazardly. He had a son. Every boy needed a dad. What right did Charlie have keeping such a secret from him? Who else in their hometown, aside from her mother, had walked right by him or smiled to his face without telling him about his son?

He'd always felt a great sense of bitterness towards Charlie since she'd walked out on him, but he'd never felt this wounded or wronged.

"He doesn't think I didn't want him, does he?"

Charlie sniffled, shook her head, and wiped her tears with the heels of her hands. "All he knows is that you couldn't be there, but I've never told him it was because you didn't want to be." When she looked up at him with her bloodshot hazel eyes, he did not feel sorry for her and he would not let her tears affect him.

"You know I would have been, Charlie." He fought to speak calmly. "If you'd told me, if you'd given me a chance, I would have faced up to my responsibilities."

"I know you would have." Again, she lowered her gaze. No doubt to hide the flush of shame on her face. "It's why I didn't tell you I was pregnant. I knew what being a father would have cost you, Colby. You had such high hopes and big dreams. A baby would have cost you everything and I couldn't let you do-"

"THAT WASN'T YOUR DECISION TO MAKE, CHARLENE!" He slammed his fist down on the table. The plates holding their untouched breakfast shook. It was so unexpected that she jumped a little. Colby sprang to his feet and began to pace. Anger quickened his breathing and trembles wracked his body. The rage beat in his heart, pounded in his wrists and his ears. "Fuck, Charlie, do you have any idea what you've done?"

His first child. His first son, and he'd missed everything. He missed him being born. He missed those first steps and first words. First laugh. First Christmas. First tooth. He missed the toilet training and the terrible twos. He missed the boy's first day of school. He'd missed out on being a father from the start and there was no way he could ever get those moments back.

How dare she...

"Colby, I know-"

"SAVE IT, CHARLIE! SAVE IT!" He stopped pacing and fixed her in his heated gaze. "I don't want to hear apologies or excuses! The next words out of your mouth better be where I can I find my son! I want to see him right now."

Again, she shook her head and wiped her eyes. "You can't see him, Colby – not yet."

Talk about adding insult to injury – her words felt like she'd twisted the proverbial knife she'd driven into his heart all those years ago.

"Not yet?" In the face of his escalating anger, it took a supreme act of self-control for Colby to stop himself from screaming a litany of obscenities at the woman; to curse her, and anyone else who knew about his son and failed to tell him, in the worst possible way. "You've kept him, deliberately hidden him from me for almost six years, Charlie! What do you mean not yet?" He knew he sound bitter, but he didn't care.

He was bitter.

Charlie drew an elaborately deep breath and let it out very slowly. She finally lifted her steady gaze his way, giving him the full effect of her darkly lashed hazel eyes. Despite his rage and frustration, Colby couldn't help thinking how her eyes had always been so lovely.

He was waiting for her answer, her next excuse, when the sound of the front door slamming echoed from the living room. It was shortly thereafter that Dean waltzed into the kitchen, either completely unaware or just plain untroubled by the confrontation he'd interrupted.

Knowing his best friend, Colby assumed it was the latter.

He didn't acknowledge Colby or Charlie as he made his way over to the fridge, humming a lively tune and rummaging through its contents.

In the two years he'd known the other man, Dean had never been overly attentive to his appearance, but this morning he looked particularly disheveled, disarrayed, and thoroughly hungover. He was still in the same clothes he'd worn at the bar, so Colby figured he'd probably come straight from wherever he'd spent the night with whichever girl he'd chosen from the flock that had him surrounded when Colby left with Charlie and Roman.

"Dean, uh, do you mind? We were in the middle of something."

Emerging from the fridge, with a ripped open package of string cheese and a carton of orange juice in hand, Dean's eyes danced between the kitchen's two other occupants. His brow creased in confusion.

"You two know each other?" Dean barked roughly.

It was entirely possible that he'd been too drunk to remember Colby's arrival to the bar - it wouldn't be the first time, nor would it be the last.

Colby rolled his eyes and bit back a frustrated sigh. Last night, he was livid at Dean for getting him into an awkward situation, intentional or not. Now, a part of him was thankful – how much longer would Charlie have hidden the truth if Dean hadn't brought her to the bar?

Regardless, grateful or not, the last thing he wanted or needed to deal with was Dean's antics. "I can't deal with you right now, Ambrose. Will you please just excuse us so we can fi- " Colby turned back to the kitchen table, but Charlie's previously occupied chair was now empty and her messenger bag was no longer sitting on the wooden surface.

She'd quietly slipped away while Dean distracted him.

"Did you see her go?" He turned back to the other man, shocked.

Dean shrugged and took a bite off the string cheese. "Yeah, but you were already in the middle of bitching me out for interrupting you the first time." Dean spoke indistinctly, around his mouthful of food. "I figured I'd let you finish."

* * *

Again, thank you guys so much & I am so sorry for taking so long. I'll try to post the next bits tomorrow or Saturday. I hope you enjoyed it and look forward to your awesome reviews *wink*.


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